


Careful What You Wish For

by Vaecordia



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alfred being shameless and scandalous as usual, Also Ivan regrets ever daring Alfred to anything while intoxicated, Established rusame, M/M, a lot of innuendos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-12
Updated: 2017-10-12
Packaged: 2019-01-16 06:39:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12337485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vaecordia/pseuds/Vaecordia
Summary: Alfred had remembered the bet he had lost the previous night, and Ivan half-regrets what he had dared Alfred to do. The other half of him was... otherwise occupied.





	Careful What You Wish For

Ivan may have forgotten he had a meeting that morning. He also may have gotten carried away the previous night and forgotten to set an alarm clock. He may also have forgotten whether or not Alfred had been in his room or not. But he certainly remembered all too clearly the rest of the evening, every moment before walking to the hotel all too clear in his mind.

He would also blame everything on Gilbert, who had decided that a celebration was in order even though they'd only gotten through half of the entire week of meetings planned for them.

When he entered the building, he was five minutes late to the meeting already.

Naturally, he had never refused an invite to drink and observe his fellow nations' idiocies. He had not broken the tradition last night either.

And as he strolled into the meeting room, he was just past ten minutes late. Of course, this was not a noticeable loss, seeing as the meeting room was already in a chaotic state (Ivan was rather amazed, seeing as he would have thought some would have raging hangovers - their energy was astounding).

He made his way to his seat, and after another five minutes Ludwig had finally managed to swallow an aspirin over Gilbert's incessant chatter and calmed the meeting down. When Ivan settled into his chair, his eyes fleeted over the other nations to see who was in what kind of state. Most seemed pained to be in the room, others seemed right as rain. Francis was leering at Arthur, while the Toris was rather obviously trying to conceal a yawn every two minutes. Yao seemed determined to glare a hole into the wall. Kiku was sitting stoically with his pen hovering over a paper. Alfred -

Ivan remembered now that Alfred had indeed come into his room the previous night, and they were both rather hammered at that point. Not too much to walk and talk, but enough to make stupid bets.

They hadn't even gotten to Ivan's hotel room building before Ivan's own competitive nature had bet Alfred that he couldn't do a 360 in a plane. Of course, Alfred had taken him up on it and not fifteen minutes later they were at the airfield, and Alfred had managed to locate his government's plane and was monitoring the controls. It was right in the middle of the night, and Alfred was perhaps less stable on his feet than Ivan was.

Alfred had perhaps _thought_ he was doing a loop, while Ivan was absolutely certain he had done nothing but fly in a more-or-less straight line the entire time. Alfred had demanded a rematch once they were on the ground, but before anything was decided they'd both had to do some heavy-duty explanations as to why they were on a diplomatic plane in the middle of the night. Ivan had luckily had both their IDs and gotten them out of there without further questioning. After fifteen minutes of arguing the technicalities of their bet, Alfred had relented and accepted Ivan to dare him.

Looking at Alfred, Ivan doubted he remembered what his penalty was. Seeing his bored and zoned-out look, Ivan was rather surprised at how Alfred managed to look so composed despite last night. They must have parted ways before going each to their own hotel rooms. But his suit was perfectly clean, everything about him perhaps even more professional than usual.

Ivan had lost track of the meeting, and the current presenter, Brazil, was going on about something related to clean energies - probably, Ivan wasn’t quite interested enough to care.

Paolo then left the podium, and Ludwig called for the next presenter - Alfred. He stood, and there was a moment of disconnection in Ivan’s mind.

At the sound of heels against a stone floor, his eyes drifted to the door and waited for it to open at any moment. However, his ears picked up that the sound was indeed from inside the room, and he realised -

Oh, God.

Alfred had remembered the dare.

Ivan’s eyes snapped to the nation, who walked up to the podium with confidence. And as he took the step up onto the small stage, Ivan saw he was indeed wearing perhaps the most ridiculously daring and highest stiletto heels Ivan had ever seen.

And seeing Alfred in his crisp black suit, tailor-made and perfectly cut to fit his powerful frame, while his legs were only complemented (and very much elongated) by those heels was…

Well.

It invoked a certain _feeling_ in Ivan.

And of course, that was most certainly not all of it. Being the self-assured, unshakeable and ever-proud nation he was, Alfred’s eyes displayed only unabashed mischief when they locked with Ivan’s. Alfred’s smirk betrayed the thoughts his mind had conjured, some of which would perhaps even make Francis raise an eyebrow in mirth. And of course, instead of standing behind the podium as every other nation, Alfred took it a step further.

Ivan had once said he liked Alfred’s legs - they were long and lithe and extremely erotic.

Alfred had obviously taken that compliment and decided to reshape the meaning of it. To Ivan, Alfred looked absolutely delectable.

His powerpoint on the screen behind him, he decided to point out, himself, every detail he mentioned for the new proposition of the US Government. He began walking up and down the stage, the soft _click_ of the heels constantly digging into Ivan’s mind - he wasn’t sure he’d caught a single word Alfred had said. But really, it didn’t matter in the least, because Alfred’s provocation was nothing but a clear call for Ivan to excuse himself from the meeting and demand a _private_ audience with the representative of the United States.

If Ivan were any lesser nation, he would have worded it very differently and much less properly. However, he ignored every single one of Alfred’s amused looks and alluring stance and insinuating word successfully until the end of Alfred’s speech. Their eyes had basically not left each other during the entire speech.

Alfred asked, “Questions?”

“I have one,” Ivan stated, and Alfred’s lip threatened to curl into a full-out smile. “But perhaps this discussion may be saved for later, it is one preferably held in a more secluded setting.”

“Mr. Braginsky,” Alfred drawled, and every other nation realised the shift in the atmosphere (if Alfred used a nation’s official title, he was an enemy, if he used their first name, he was a friend; but if Alfred used a nation’s human surname, something was amiss). “I think we’re at a nations’ conference for a reason - to discuss international matters.”

“Of course I understand this,” Ivan conceded, and it was getting very hard to not declare their current arrangements to other nations (most of whom had no knowledge whatsoever of what had gone on behind closed doors since the beginnings of the Iron Curtain). “But delicate matters require delicate circumstances. And this is a rather… _prominent issue._ ”

Ivan could see Alfred trying not to burst out laughing, but to the rest of the world it seemed he was as cool and composed as ever. “I think if you have anything to say, you can say it right here.”

Ivan raised an eyebrow. “The subject matter is rather _high_ up in my priorities, but it can wait until it is convenient for you. After all, the proposition you made just now,” he motioned to the board behind Alfred, or rather to Alfred himself, “was very intriguing, but there a few points I would like to delve _deeper_ into.”

A faint tint rose to Alfred’s face, and he seemed to mull the idea over. “I believe it’s fine now, after all the meeting can go on despite the absence of two nations. It would be easier to answer your questions and explore the aspects of the proposal now when it is fresh in our minds. After all, this deal could be advantageous to the both of us, and I seek _satisfaction_ on both sides.”

Ivan caught Francis coughing into his hand, and Matthew swatting him lightly on the arm. No doubt the two had every idea of what was going on, and by the look of irritation on Arthur’s face it was clear he did too. “If you would excuse Mr. Jones and I, we will return shortly.”

Alfred snorted but disguised it as a cough. “It may take a while,” he grinned, “depending on how thorough you aim to be.”

Ivan restrained from answering, and made his way outside. He heard the devilish clicking of the treacherous heels, and soon enough Alfred appeared with a triumphant grin on his face. The moment Alfred had shut the door of the meeting room, Ivan had pressed Alfred against the wall right next to it. Alfred’s grin only widened.

“Did you think I wouldn’t remember?”

“I would have thought of everything else, too,” Ivan murmured hoarsely against the skin of Alfred’s neck. “Of course I should have expected you would take the opportunity to cause some outrage amongst the older nations. I should have known China’s incessant glaring was due to your arrogance.”

“Arrogance that _you_ caused, Ivan.”

“Fair point. Now shall we take this somewhere more private? I believe your… offer still stands.”

“Well seeing as my presentation was about global warming, I can see one way we can solve that heat problem,” Alfred shrugged innocently, and Ivan felt the heel dragging against the back of his calf as Alfred pulled his leg up towards Ivan’s hip.

“You really are the cause of every single one of the world’s… ah… _largest problems_.”

“Never pegged you to be one for innuendos, really. But to be completely honest, you wanted me in heels. I just… upped the ante.” Alfred’s smile turns almost feral. “Wait ‘til you see what’s under my pants,” Alfred whispered and Ivan paused.

Ivan pulled slightly away from Alfred, enough to look into his eyes. “What…”

Alfred laughed. “Remember that time you said you thought I would look _desirable_ in garters?”

“You-”

Alfred smile was beyond diabolic now. “I think I look _downright sexy_ in stocking and garter belts. Wanna pass a judgement?”

Ivan was quick to drag Alfred into an empty office room, and cared very little for what was scattered on the desk when he splayed Alfred onto it.

It took them until after lunch to satiate the both of them.

Ivan arrived to the meeting room some two hours later, his appearance having been returned to professional as best he could. There were a few new creases in his shirt, granted, but otherwise he had managed his looks just fine. Alfred walked in some time later, and still clad in those tantalising heels. Ivan regretted complimenting Alfred on his long legs some time ago - he had seemingly decided to test Ivan’s limits.

Only now, there was a slight unevenness to the rhythmic clicking of the heels against the floor, and Ivan felt a smirk rise to his features as he listened to it.

Ludwig held the bridge of his nose. “Alfred, please, next time I would prefer it if you wore proper attire to a meeting.”

Alfred raised an eyebrow. “This is perfectly proper attire, I’m not breaking a single dress code! Heels and suits are both accepted business clothing!”

* * *

Bonus -

Ivan found Alfred the next day before the meeting, this time in his normal Italian leather shoes, outside the conference room. But what piqued his curiosity this time was not how he was dressed, but the fact he was speaking to his sister.

More specifically, Natalya.

Last time the two of them had interacted, it had ended up with Ivan in between the two of them with a gun to his head and a knife to his throat. He still hadn’t exactly understood why the two of them thought that killing an immortal nation that was dear to the both of them was the best idea, but…

And yet, now Alfred seemed pleased with himself, and Natalya’s usually distasteful look was gone from her neutral expression. Ivan approached them as Alfred caught sight of him.

“... don’t need to tell you the rest. I’d guess he liked it.”

“Of course he would like it,” Natalya responded, but there was little hostility in her tone. And as she saw Ivan, the corner of her lip twitched upwards. “I did grow up with him. There was a point when he confiscated all suggestive articles of clothing from my sister and me for risk of seducing the wrong kinds of people. Your people.”

Alfred laughed and Ivan finally reached them with complete and total distrust for them both. Natalya excused herself and left Ivan and Alfred together.  

“What’s happening?”

“Nothing,” Alfred grinned. “I was just thanking Nat for helping me pick the heels and garments that would… well. Affect you most.”

Ivan stared at Natalya’s retreating back and was perhaps more afraid now of the two getting along than he had of them killing him. “Since when do you get along?”

“Since she decided you needed some release of tension,” Alfred said.

Ivan was definitely more than terrified - if Natalya had accepted Alfred as good enough for her brother, something was bound to go wrong. Alfred merely smiled innocently.


End file.
